Skin
by EerieAlice
Summary: Chucky returns to New Hampshire where he meets someone from his past, somebody he'd forgotten, but his passion to kill is still strong. Can he ever be saved from himself? Contains strong language, sexual and violent scenes. Mature readers only.
1. Prelude

I don't own any of the _Child's Play_ series. I'm just an admirer, writing some fan fiction mixing a few of own ideas suffering from boredom and inspiration. This particular story is an experiment dealing with the whole 'horror' genre, to be honest, the whole blood and gore scene has never settled with me. My previous fan stories have usually been from a fantasy or science fiction area, so I'm exploring new ground, along with mixing my own ideas. So I hope you enjoy the story, and don't forget to leave a comment. –_EA._

Skin

Prelude

The news van rushed to the scene, a house burning up the quiet suburban road where nothing remotely disastrous ever happened. The van swerved by the road side, parking up, the door slid open and the newsreader jolted out. Dolled up, her hair quavered, her lips as red as rubies and the pearls hung tight around her neck. She swung her hips with attitude as she moved, practically oozing with professionalism.

People from the neighbourhood watched from their windows, some even stood out on their lawns. Some were dressed in their night robes, even clutching their drink they'd been enjoying while watching the television. Still in their grasp, they'd forgotten about it when the flames were visible from the house, tearing the place up from the inside out.

This story was too rare to ignore, a quiet home life, a fire and two casualties. What had happened here?

The newsreader positioned herself in front of the camera and began to read the story she'd typed out in a hungry stupor. After the camera man had signalled cut, she turned to find out more information, she'd work her charm and began with the police officer first on the scene.

The teenage boy watched from the pathway, clutching the little girl as she cried against his leg. The smoke reached the tops of the trees, it was so high, it would be able to contact a search team in the snow. The heat of the flames had already dried his tears but hadn't extinguished the rage in his heart.

From the darkness, he noticed a figure moving in a quiet hurry from the scene. Small, with tiny limbs like a child, except it wasn't a child.


	2. Part I

I don't own any of the _Child's Play_ series. I'm just an admirer, writing some fan fiction mixing a few of own ideas suffering from boredom and inspiration. This is the next chapter in the works of my Chucky story, as I've stated before I'm exploring new ground particularly writing within the horror genre. I hope you enjoy reading, I'd love to hear your thoughts, whether I need to cool my heels or sharpen up the razor. –_EA_.

Skin

Part I

New Hampshire, 1998

The bell rang at the school, it was the end of the day and within one breath, the children rushed and queued for the buses home. On one particular bus, another soul had hitched a ride, for a place to hide, to explore and see old faces, well the ones that remembered him.

The first child saw him, stepped back in fear and moved towards a seat, the one preferably near the exit door. A number of children did the same, until Amber Carter clambered onto the bus, taking one single look at the doll on the back seat, and she was in love.

The girl wrapped her arms around his neck and hauled him onto her lap. Her friends grimaced at the state of him. Big chunks of his red hair were missing, stitches and staples lashed across his cheekbones and his mouth was up turned into a cynical smirk. Amber smacked his back and a sound whirled from his chest.

"_Hi I'm Chucky, wanna play?!_"

Her friends laughed and in turn so did Amber, she'd made a new friend, she'd found him herself and she'd fight anyone who would dare to take him from her.

Moments later, Amber crashed through her home, announcing to whoever was there about her new friend. She ambled into the kitchen whilst she clutched Chucky in her tiny excited hands.

"Dadda!" she yelled.

"Hello poppet," the blonde haired man said, "what's that?"

"My new friend," she said and held Chucky out for him.

Her father glazed his eyes over the bizarre toy in his daughter's hands. "Where did you find him?"

"At the back of the school bus."

"He'll be dirty Amber."

"Nope he's fine honestly," she whined.

"But honey," he whispered. "He's got stitches and cuts all over his face, you wouldn't want him, let's get you another toy."

Amber stood her ground, glaring her father down. "No! I'm keeping him, he's mine, I like him like this!"

Chucky could feel a smile itch at the corner of his mouth, but he'd wait till later on to explore his happiness.

Over the next few hours, Chucky had learned alot about the Carter family and he was already plotting the surprise for them.

There were four members, the father, Sam Carter, an architect and to Chucky, a complete annoyance. Lovey dovey, goody two shoes, he'd enjoy ridding the world of him.

The next was the teenage son, Dylan Carter, seventeen, glum and moody. His dark hair hung over his face and he hardly spoke. When he did bother to open his mouth, it would be some recycled sarcastic one liner Chucky had heard all his life. No wonder he hated kids.

The third was Amber, his owner (for now) and to his shock, she didn't irritate him as much as he thought she would.

Finally, the mother, nameless, only known to Chucky as '_Momma_', doing the night shift of her job, someone he still had to meet.

The night came without a wink; Chucky couldn't contain his excitement to get to work. Amber trudged up the stairs to bed, with her new playmate rattling by her side. Dylan next to take his hike and then finally Sam adjourned.

Chucky watched in the darkness as Amber's chest rose and fell in the midst of deep sleep. He peered down from the shelf she'd kindly placed him, accompanying him with rather distasteful and repulsive replicas of pink horses. Using his weight, Chucky jumped down from the shelf and his feet landed silently on the carpet. Amber's door was already open, and Chucky crawled along the landing to the carpet covered stairs where his footsteps went without a trace. The Carter family had done him a favour, a villain's quick get away.

Chucky walked into the hall and down into the kitchen, only a couple of hours of before he'd been quietly examining what weapon he'd use. The butcher knife, or was that too old fashioned? Perhaps he'd go all 'silent assassin' this time and use the gas from the oven, Chucky shook his head from the silly idea. That just wasn't him at all.

A car pulled into the driveway, casting the strobe of headlights along the curtains, creating attractive patterns along the wooden floor of the hall. He heard the slam of the car door and the wriggle of keys in the porch.

_Welcome home Mrs Carter_, Chucky thought and a pleasurable giggle buzzed in his throat.

He hid in the lower cupboard of the central kitchen table, tucking himself into the corner; he still had a perfect view shot.

The front door opened and the figure walked in, tall, slim, prim and proper. She piled her belongings on the wall hooks, removing her coat like silk off her shoulders. From her outfit, she worked in the hospital; so far Chucky liked what he was seeing. The woman turned, her hair was red, the colour of fire, Chucky's personal favourite. Her fingers swam to her scalp, pulling out the pins and her hair tumbled to her shoulders in thick waves.

The woman moved into the kitchen, her face still cast in shadows. She moved around the table, Chucky twisted, peering through the cracks. The woman poured herself a glass of red wine and turned on the radio which lay on the window sill. A sad yet coaxing melody of a Spanish guitar seeped out from the speakers. Overall, the atmosphere was quiet, probably what the woman longed for. Come to think of it, she would be after serenity, from the hard shifts working in accident and emergency wrestling with the belligerent drunks or dealing with the patients on the trauma ward.

The woman took a few sips of her wine glass, listening to the music. Chucky could make out from the moonlight on her face, she had vivid green eyes. Something pulled at his insides; he'd seen those eyes before, over candle light and full of tears.

"What are you doing up?" a voice said from the darkness.

The woman turned and from her expression, Chucky noticed her smile.

"Just coming to bed," she said.

He knew that voice.

Sam moved over to her, wrapping his arms around his wife's waist and shoulders. "How was work?"

She sighed, pulling a strand of hair clear from her tired eyes. "What do you think? A complete pain in the ass, I _hate_ doing nights. I miss being with you and kids."

"Can't you ask if you can swap with someone?" Sam said.

"Um hello, I'm not the only nurse (married with children) in the hospital, nobody likes doing them, but the pay is more."

Sam pushed his lips to his wife's mouth to stop her from talking and Chucky rolled his eyes. He was ruining his plan, and had missed his curtain call to start. The couple broke apart from one another, the woman turned off the radio and they retreated upstairs. As soft as his little feet could do, Chucky followed them, peering through the banister. So…she'd moved on, lucky her, but not for long.

_ Long time no see Meredith, _Chucky thought and he disappeared into the darkness._ Shame, you'll be dead by the end of the week._

Meredith Carter awoke the next morning with a pounding headache, she hated nights, if it weren't for the pay, she would hand in her notice. She swung her legs off her bed, showered and changed. She picked up the basket of dirty washing and moved into her children's rooms. Dylan with his mucky rock shirts lived like a caveman; he would rewear everything, no matter how much it stank. Meredith moved into Amber's bedroom, she opened the door and screamed, dropping the washing basket.

"What's the matter?" her husband shouted.

"What is this?" Meredith pointed to the hideous doll on her daughter's night stand.

"His name is Chucky, Amber found him on the bus home yesterday," Sam replied.

"And you let her keep it?"

"She wasn't giving him up without a fight, she loves him, got no idea why cause he's so—."

Meredith leaned down, staring deep into the dolls eyes. She'd never seen a doll with such violence etched on, she stroked her finger along his cheek bone and along the stitching on his face. She could see Dylan owning a doll like that, but never her sweet daughter that was obsessed with unicorns and Barbie.

"I hate it," Meredith said and rose to look back at her husband. "I don't want it here anymore."

Sam giggled. "Does he scare you?"

"Of course he does, look at him!" she exclaimed. "Plus, he…kinda reminds me of…you know what it doesn't matter. He's unsettling, and I don't want him giving my daughter nightmares."

"She brought him Meredith," Sam said.

"I don't like it anyway, I want him gone before she get's home."

Sam shook his head. "She'll notice, and she'll get upset, you know what she's like."

Meredith stared at him and from the corner of her eye; she swore she saw the doll smirk at her. She shook the thought off, she hadn't got enough sleep and her mind was still in the clouds.

As the kids came home and Meredith dished up for dinner, Amber brought her creepy doll to the table. Everyone ate in silence; Meredith however shot glances towards the doll as Amber played with him.

Chucky was trying his hardest not to bite out, or slam the knife into Dylan's hand or throw the plate at Sam's head. He could feel the urge pounding in his limbs, but Meredith's gaze kept him fixed to the spot. It was as if she had x-ray vision, she knew he was bad business and for a while, Chucky thought Meredith had recognised him.

The night drew in and Chucky watched from the banister as the Carter family delved into watching the television, immersed with the images moving on the screen. He crawled along the landing carpet and moved into Sam and Meredith's room, wow, the place was tidy. Everything was in perfect alignment, not a spot to be seen, everything stored away. Chucky moved over to the wardrobe and searched through the contents until he found a box. He rummaged through it and found a leather bound photo album, he opened it to find his own face staring back at him. Back when he was a man, when he was a wanted man.

Inside was from a various wide range of newspaper cuttings, about the crime scene where he'd transferred his soul into the doll's body, a cage he loathed and an escape he had to catch. Meredith had kept a close an eye on him and that puzzled Chucky. He flicked through the pages, more updates about his victims, their faces stared back at him but he didn't feel anything in return. The only emotions running through him were towards Meredith, why had she kept a record of him and his career? Why would he still be relevant to her existence?

_After everything that had happened_, Chucky pushed the photo album away. _I'm still in her thoughts, why would I be? After everything that had happened, after how we left things, and how I finished it. _


End file.
